To Hell with Good Intentions
by Bizarre Bazaar
Summary: Meet Lane Logan, Mary Sue Extraordinaire! She’s hip and kewl and she's gonna be on MTV -but first she has to seduce Craig! (A satire on all the Mary-Sue fics in the Degrassi category)
1. Mohawked Mary Skank

You've probably already come across Mary Sue. She is universally adored by all the regular characters, and she's usually the child or lover of the author's favorite. She is the most beautiful creature to ever live. She always saves the day, or dies heroically in the attempt, causing even the most cold hearted of the other characters to cry. She either becomes a figure of authority, defies it at every turn, or manages to do both at the same time. She has a wide variety of talents, putting her above and beyond mere mortals, and she's often named after the author. In short, Mary Sue is what everyone wants to be, and no one actually is. (Taken without permission from: www.echelon.ca/aldowdall/ld/marysue.html)  
  
To Hell with Good Intentions  
  
~ Chapter One: Naissance ~  
  
"Bugger, if I have to spend one more minute on this horrible yellow contraption, I swear I shall scream," said the delightful protagonist of this story, Lane Logan, drawing various stares and glares from her fellow passengers.   
  
It was the first day school and she was on the bus. Lane Logan was using public transportation because she wasn't frigging special. Lane's parents/legal guardians had jobs. They couldn't get off work just to drive their bitch daughter to school. So on this Monday morning, she was just another teen using the easiest way to get to school.  
  
She had only been on the bus for ten minutes and Lane was already pissed off. "Bugger, when the hell are we going to get to this damn school anyway? Do we have to go all the way around Canada?" Lane glared at the other kids, like it was somehow their fault she was stuck on the bus. Her fellow passengers shrank back in horror as the misfit girl's evil-eye ran over each and every one of them.  
  
You see, Lane was a horrible, nasty person on the inside. She would push old ladies and kick kittens. The sinful lass would smoke at a hospital in the lung cancer ward and she would make fun of ugly and/or fat people. Often times she was thrown out of churches and libraries for her disrespectful behavior. But in all her perversion, Lane was a beautiful person on the outside. The only thing that ruined her wonderful features was her abnormal wish for world destruction and/or corruption.   
  
Lane was a lanky girl with 15.75 years to her name. She had shit-brown eyes and Tri-Mohawks dyed maroon, black, and blue –the colors of her gang- going down the length of her head. The spiteful teen was wearing an old potato sack with the word 'I-DA-HO' printed across the front and 'FOR SALE' on the back.   
  
She wore a black pleated skirt that her potato sack shirt completely covered; giving the impression that she wasn't wearing anything at all on her bottom. Lane had custom-made combat boots on her feet with the heels and toes tipped with steel. She carried around a faded yellow and blue umbrella. It was for protection from the sun. Lane never went out in the sun if she could help it. Therefore, her skin was a pasty white color and she bought bottles of Vitamin C by the bulk.   
  
The sullen teen wore her makeup like war-paint. The area surrounding her eyes was black from the mascara she had colored on with an old paint brush. Lane had seven safety pins in each ears from when she had pierced them the week before. Her nail-polish (lime green) was chipping and she had several long nasty scars on her forearms.   
  
The closest people would sit next to her on the bus was two seats down, preferably upwind. You see, Lane had a stench around her. If one dared to get close, they would see the pig dung she had smeared under her armpits. It was a daily tradition that she had upheld ever since she had moved to Canada one month ago. Why she did this, nobody really knew. But the fact remained, she smelled like pig dung and should therefore be avoided.   
  
Thus, when Lane stood up in anger, the other passengers inched as far back in their seats as they could get. They had to get away from the smelly disgruntled girl.   
  
"I swear Mr. Señor Bus Driver Man," she hollered. "If we don't get to this 'Degrassi' place soon, I really am going to scream."  
  
Quite frankly, Lane would have rather walked to school. She walked everywhere saying, 'Cars are the Devil reincarnated'. The bitch didn't believe in cars. But because her house was twenty miles away, her parents/legal guardians had forced her to take the bus.  
  
But just because she had to ride it, that didn't mean she was going to enjoy it. The yellow dung-mobile was filthy, it bounced around a lot, and it a smelled like rotten eggs. It was a lot like Lane in fact, who might have enjoyed something familiar if she hadn't been in such a foul mood. Thus, she had stood up and had loudly conveyed her opinion, because Lane couldn't take the bus ride any longer.   
  
The whorish bitch frowned. "If you think I'm joking, think again. I'm loud and obnoxious and when I yell, it's a god-awful sound that's _always_ out of tune." She waved her closed umbrella at the other passengers.  
  
The bus driver, an elderly man who went by the name of Frank Ardagna didn't know what to do. He glanced up at the mirror. The deranged girl was standing in the middle of the aisle. If his boss were to catch a sight of this, he would be fired in a flash. The kids were supposed to sit in the seats. But this bitch didn't look like she was about to sit down anytime soon. She looked serious. And Frank could smell the wench from up in the front of the bus, and she was at least seven rows back.  
  
You see, he had never dealt with a Mary Sue before, let alone a bitchy Mary Sue. They were all driven to school by their unemployed parents, or walked because they lived, 'just around that corner, yonder'. Frank put his foot down on the gas pedal as an effort to speed up. The faster they got to school, the faster that bitch would be off his bus.  
  
Lane plopped down into her seat with a loud 'harrumph'. She was used to getting a 'yes ser' with what ever she commanded, but she was going to let this one slide. "Stupid wanker can't even give a yes ser, no ser," she muttered to herself. "Too early in the morning. What the hell have I gotten myself into? Canada. Frigging Canada."  
  
Lane continued with her mad ramblings until she noticed a guy was staring at her. He was in the seat in front of her, turned around so he could get a good look at the Mohawked Mary Sue. He must have gotten on the bus when she wasn't looking. The strange thing was the guy didn't seem to mind the smell that was radiating from Lane.   
  
She scowled. "What yer name punk?"  
  
"Why?" the guy asked.  
  
"So I know what an idiot looks like, der!" Lane made a face. The bitch had disliked the other teen immediately. For one thing, still hadn't answered her question. The other thing was he wore his blue baseball cap backwards. Lane absolutely despised jerks that put their hats on the wrong way. It defeated the point of wearing a hat, and it made the person wearing the offensive object look like an idiot. She wanted to smack the punk but she restrained herself, using the 'it's too early' speech again.  
  
Five minutes later the guy was still looking at her. Lane sneered. "What you gawking at, punk?"   
  
He grinned. "A freak with a beak."  
  
The Mohawked Mary Sue's eyes narrowed. "Are you deriding my outlandishly elongated snoop?" She sometimes liked to use big obscure words to confuse people.  
  
The punk frowned. "What? What's a snoop?"  
  
She glared at the self-proclaimed moron. "My snoop. My poke. My nose! Any of these words making sense to you kid? Cuz if need be," Lane paused and started to rummage through her bag. She found what she was looking for and waved the object in front of the other teen's face. "I have this dictionary/thesaurus. It's pretty big. When I hit you over the head, I'll be sure to knock some sense into you."  
  
The punk stuck his tongue out at the malicious wench but turned back around to face the front. It looked like Lane had won. She smirked at her evil ways and congratulated herself for being such a nasty bitch.  
  
Suddenly, the guy turned around again with a squirt-gun in his hand.  
  
Lane's face went blank. "You wouldn't," she said in a hushed whisper. Her face contorted in anger. "If you knew what was good for you, you wouldn't dare try it punk." Her hand was slowly inching towards the dictionary/thesaurus she had stashed in her bag only moments ago.  
  
The punk looked undecided. It was like he didn't know if he really wanted to go through with the act.   
  
The Mohawked Mary Sue's eyes squinted as she licked her dried and cracked lips. Her hand had made contact with the informational book. Her bony fingers slowly wrapped around the binding.   
  
It was a showdown. Who was going to be able to move the quickest? Lane could move fast when she wanted to, but this punk looked like he meant business.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the bus was approaching turn. The bitch-whore made her decision. She pointed, "Look, look! A distraction!" And she swung the book at the other teen. The punk didn't fall for it though.  
  
Instead, he pulled the trigger.  
  
~~~~  
  
I own naught of Degrassi. Lane is a character that came out of my twisted mind, not yours, so no stealing! And I apologize for poor grammer, spelling errors, or anything that doesn't quite make sense to you. Politely point it out to me and I'll change it.  
  
In my opinion, all fanfictions ever written contains OOCness. What happens in a fanfic doesn't actually happen on the show/book/movie/etc. So you REALLY don't know if that is how the original characters would react, or the situations it would bring about. So don't yell at me for my Degrassi characters being blatantly OOC, because I can turn that argument around on you. 


	2. Bob, Lord of Sparrows & Spatula

A -DEGRASSI- Mary Sue  
  
You've probably already come across a DEGRASSI Mary Sue. She is best friends with Ashley Kerwin, and usually ends up being romantically linked with Craig Manning or Sean Cameron. She is the most beautiful creature to ever live, but is horribly scarred by some tragic event that happened just before she came to Degrassi. She's been beaten/raped/committed but that doesn't get her down, no sir. Mary Sue lives the happy life of a normal teenager, keeping her secrets locked deep inside of herself. But you see she's not exactly one for the cloak-and-dagger lifestyle because someone ALWAYS finds out.  
  
Her encounters with Paige Michalchuk always end with a fight about fashion and a sworn mortal enemy. She always hails from the United States, but never seems to have a problem with the fact that she left her friends behind. The girls want to be –just- like her. The guys want her for her two-dimension personality and her plain, but SEXY body. In short, Mary Sue is what the author desires to be, but never will be. And oh yeah, she *luvs* Linkin' Park. (Taken without permission from: Bizarre Bazaar)  
  
To Hell with Good Intentions  
  
~ Chapter Two: Conformité ~  
  
Frank Ardagna was a simple man. He lived in a modest home with his plain wife. He was long retired from his original job as an electrician – Frank had quit when he realized everything now was too new for an old man to relearn.   
  
When he had been forced into an early retirement though, all of his plans had been shot. So Frank had had to take up a few small jobs to pay the bills, including a job as a bus driver. The last thing he ever needed -or expected- was a Mary Sue-induced heart attack followed by a large medical bill...   
  
~~~  
  
As the water from the plastic squirt gun splashed onto Lane's potato sack shirt, two things happened. The first was a loud, high-pitched squeal that nearly shattered the windows on the bus. The second thing, although it was a bit more delayed, was the bus swerving off the road and into a ditch.   
  
The surprise collision sent the kids on the yellow death-trap with wheels, flying. It was almost like some sort of mad rendition of the show 'The Magic School Bus', with the teens suspended in midair as the bus soared towards the bottom of the swampy dike. But this was without the magic and the happiness. Because in the end, with bodies and backpacks sprawled everywhere, everyone wanted to go home, not just that one red-headed kid.  
  
After the dust had settled in a figurative way, and everyone was righting themselves, a loud cackle erupted from the middle of the bus. It had taken Lane more than a few moments for her to fully realize what she had done. And now that she did, the Mohawked Mary Sue was laughing it up. A big grin spread over her demented angel-like face. "Now that was a bus ride!"   
  
~~~  
  
It turned out that nobody was seriously injured. The bus driver was fine. He still slightly shaken from the experience, but all in all, everything was O & K. So after several minutes of the bus going into a hard reverse, they were back on the road again.  
  
Lane was still grinning. She loved accidents of any kind. It gave her a rush that no drug could ever replace. And she liked freaking people out by being happy like that. Unfortunately for Lane, the rest of the ride was relatively calm and quite, if extremely disturbing. The punk with the SQUIRT gun wasn't bothering her anymore, and Lane normally would have been happy. But she wasn't; she still had one more question to ask.   
  
The fussy teenager leaned around the seat and tapped the kid on his shoulder. He jumped at her touch and immediately whipped around to see what Lane wanted.  
  
"What?!" he half whispered, half shouted.  
  
Lane grinned. "What's your name punk; you still haven't told me your name.  
  
The punk glared at the Mohawked Mary Sue but after a few minutes, he relented. "The name's JT."  
  
The now-named punk started to turn back around in his seat, but he stopped and faced the bitch again. JT glowered, "You know, you haven't told me your name either..." He trailed off, expecting an answer.  
  
"Yeah, I know," stated the shady young woman. She waved her thin fingers in front of his face and donned a 'mystical' voice. "That will be revealed in due time." Lane lost the corny accent. "But for now, you shall call me Bob, Lord of the Sparrows."  
  
"African or European?"  
  
"Does it matter?"  
  
"To some people, yes it does."  
  
"It is decided," she cleared her throat. "I will be known only as: Bob, Lord of the African Sparrows and Kitchen Spatulas?"  
  
JT frowned. "Spatulas?"  
  
"You have a problem with spatulas?" Lane glared. "Cuz if you do..." She waved her fist threateningly.  
  
"Ok, spatulas it is."  
  
Lane extended her hand and took up the other teens'. "Good to meet you JT No-Last-Name. You call me anything other than Bob, Lord of the African Sparrows and Kitchen Spatulas and I'll disembowel you on the spot. Now let go of my hand."  
  
The punk obeyed.  
  
The Mohawked Mary Sue glanced around nervously. No one was paying a bit of attention to their banter, but Lane's second motto was "you never can be too careful". Her first was "cry me a river and I will drown you in it".   
  
The Bitch leaned in closer towards her new lackey. "Now that that stuff is well and done, we can get down to serious business."   
  
JT gulped and settled in closer.  
  
~~~  
  
When the bus finally pulled to stop in front of the school, everyone ran off to get away from the loudmouthed girl. The bus driver wasn't as lucky. His seat belt had gotten caught and now he had to wait for Lane. Frank Ardagna ground his teeth together in anticipation for the moment when he could leave. But unfortunately for him, Lane was a bitch.   
  
She slowly stood up. She slowly put on her shoulder-bag. She slowly adjusted her potato-sack shirt. And then she finally, but slowly made her way down the aisle.   
  
"Good thing," Lane fired off rapidly when she reached the front of the bus. "I was just about ready to scrape some of that pig dung from under my armpits and chuck it at you, Mr. Bus Driver Man."  
  
Frank continued to grind his teeth and muttered, "Get off the bus." He was forcefully gripping the steering wheel and his foot was on the gas pedal.  
  
But Lane didn't get the message. "What? What's that now? Scream and yell and jump up and down like a monkey? Well, it's a little unorthodox, but ok." Lane did so, much to the frustration of the agitated bus driver.  
  
Frank managed to state, coherently this time, "Get off my bus. Now." Each word was said slowly and carefully, with a force behind it.  
  
Lane heard the man, but chose not to pay attention. She instead, swiftly sat down in one of the seats. Gaining a 'trucker accent', the teen started to ramble on about her family. "So yeah, way back before I was born, my mother was an 18 year old prostitute. Then she met my father, who was 35 at the time. Well, they fell in love, got married, and I was born. Or it could have been the other way around, I really don't remember—"  
  
"Get off the fucking bus!" the bus driver roared. His face was red with frustration and anger.  
  
The Mohawked Mary Sue made a nasty and some rude gestures. "Well," she said huffily. "I see I am not welcomed here." She stood up and for once in her life, Lane Logan submitted to someone else's command. "I think I'll leave." Her butt slid off the seat and she walked down the three steps that led to the pavement.  
  
Lane normally didn't take defeat as well as this, but after all, she had an entirely new school to trash. Before the bus driver could close the door, let alone frantically drive away, Lane quickly turned around and chucked a brown paper bag at Frank, the elderly bus driver man.  
  
A grin was plastered across her wicked face as she saw the sack explode against the driver. In that bag had been her lunch – a glob of coleslaw. Lane hadn't put it in some sort of container just in case the very situation at hand had arisen.  
  
"Good shot!" the bitch complimented herself. The driver was covered in the gooey mess. She politely waved goodbye as the infuriated man drove away. Lane giggled when he almost hit a group of preteens who were trying to cross the street.  
  
Lane slapped her hand on her thigh. "I crack myself up."  
  
Suddenly, the Mohawked Mary Sue heard a voice by her side. "Your plans have been set in motion, Bob, Lord of the African Sparrows & Kitchen Spatulas! All is well."  
  
The bitch looked down and saw JT, that punk from before. He was still wearing his blue baseball cap backwards. She glared. "Lose the hat. You look like a demented clown."  
  
He fidgeted. He kicked his foot into the ground. The punk did everything he could but remove the damned hat. "But ahh.."  
  
The whoring Mary Sue frowned. "Why aren't you removing that abhorrent thing from your head?"  
  
"I have horrible hat hair," JT confessed.  
  
"That is not a reason, soldier. That's a lame-ass excuse."  
  
"Ok, ok," he started. "I have a receding hairline and I'm a bit embarrassed about it." JT sighed. "Don't tell anyone about it though."  
  
"You're just like that guy on that commercial." Lane squinted. "Yep, I can just barely see the 'nape'. You must be a real hit with the ladies, you testosterone fool. TO BAD YOU'RE GOING BALD!" She shouted out the last word, causing a few bystanders to glance over to see who was causing such a ruckus.   
  
"Shut up," JT hissed, very aware of all the eyes that were now on him. He adjusted his cap and lightly punched Lane's shoulder. Before he knew what hit him [a fist], the punk was on the ground looking up at his attacker, a very angry Mary Sue.  
  
"Don't you ever touch me," she spat out. Lane's eyes were small slits. "Nobody is allowed to touch me," the bitch paused and JT saw her face glow. She continued, "Except the magical people of the mushrooms. My precious, oh how we love the mushrooms. Yessss, we love the 'shroomsess, don't we preciousss?"  
  
"The what?" JT interrupted. He was lounging in the grass looking up at the rambling Mary Sue. His wound was practically forgotten.  
  
"Never mind. It is way too complicated from someone like you to understand. It's bigger then you could ever imagine. If I were to tell you it would be so far beyond comprehension, I believe your brain would, in fact, explode."  
  
JT rolled his eyes. "Whatever."  
  
Lane extended her hand and hauled the younger teen up off the ground.  
  
"So..." she said, looking around suspiciously. "Did you say the -plan- was in motion?"  
  
The punk got into attention position: trail arms, chest out, shoulders back, and feet together. "Ser, yes ser!"  
  
The Multicolored Mohawked freak grinned. "Fast learner, eh?" She paused and frowned. "Did I just say 'eh'? Holy crap, I did!" The demented teen slapped herself several times while JT looked on blankly.   
  
When the violent whore regained her composer, she continued. "Ok soldier, you know your job. Now go do it." Lane mildly added on, "Fall out."  
  
JT saluted the Mary Sue smartly, and then briskly walked away towards the Degrassi campus where quite a few students were already standing around rather boorishly.   
  
Lane continued to stare at the road where the bus had dropped her off mere minutes ago. She had yet to even see the school. The Mary Bitch sighed and reluctantly muttered, "Time to get me some proper education. The teen spun around madly on her heel for two and a half rotations. Lane now faced what was supposedly a place of higher schooling.  
  
Disappointment hit her harder than any plywood board ever could. She stood with wide eyes and an open mouth staring at the building she was now going to call 'school'. Lane's mouth suddenly popped closed and her full lips curled into a repulsive sneer that would even scare Jack the Ripper.  
  
"Ok all the rotten luck!" she fumed. "I'm going to a school for faeries and pansies!" The whoring Mary Sue's voice became steady again, in a 'so I am crazy, big deal!' sort of way. "I'll just have to do something about that..."  
  
~~~~  
  
I own naught of Degrassi. Lane is a character that came out of my twisted mind, not yours, so no stealing! And I apologize for poor grammar, spelling errors, or anything that doesn't quite make sense to you. Politely point it out to me and I'll change it.  
  
Now it's time for the Three R's: Read, Review, Resipiscent. Much obliged! 


	3. I'm on that cliffy thingy

To Hell with Good Intentions

~ Chapter Three: Insensé ~

Lane's nose wrinkled as she surveyed her new school for the fourth time. She squinted her shit-brown eyes several times and tilted her head. The school still looked awful to the hardened teen. The whorish Mary Sue groaned as she put one combat-boot clad foot in front of the other as she made her way towards the Degrassi Community School.

She kept her eyes down now, ever looking at the cracked pavement. Old chewed gum and crumpled papers were her preferred scenery. Compared to the alternative, the sidewalk was looking rather good right now. You see, Lane liked misery and destruction. Quite frankly, the school was not "down" to her low standards.

There wasn't a sign of evil anywhere. Nobody was making half-hearted gang signs, and there weren't any black paint splotches covering graffiti and crude language. Instead, people were gaily laughing and smiling and venting their anger into notebooks as opposed to school property. 

But what really twisted Lane's arm was that not a single soul was looking around fearfully -or excitedly- for the next school-wide fight. She shook her head in disgust. This was nothing like her old inter-city school. Nothing at all. Lane nearly vomited.

The school itself was painted orange and baby blue. There were pretty flowers, bright happy collages, and bright happy collages of pretty flowers. When she saw these delightful features, Lane ran behind a tree and actually puked up most of the cheap Vodka she had drunk before getting on the bus.

She hadn't been looking where she was vomiting though, and had gotten some puke on some random nerd's Gameboy Advance. The mentioned geek opened his mouth to protest, but one look from the whore made the drip shut up.

Lane wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "What can I say," she said in a half-assed apology. "I h8te nerds." Lane winced. "Someone, slap -this bitch- please. I trendily combined letters and numbers in a very preteen, AOL chat room fashion!"

The offended oddball happily complied, leaving a bright red mark on Lane's face. "Thank you!" she said smiling. Finally, she had found someone with a demented brain in this school!

"No problem," gruffly replied the nerd. His brown eyes, hidden behind some extremely thick lenses, revealed that he was checking out his new companion. "Nice shirt," he added, causing Lane's smile to grow wider.

"Why thank you!" She spun around so he could read the back. "I made it myself. I'm thinking about starting my own "ho" clothing line. Someone told me I could get some good business from this one chick named Manny. You know her?"

The whore turned back so she could get a good look at her new comrade. He had longish, greasy brown hair and brown eyes and was wearing clothes similar to those she had seen on a hobo the morning before. But at least he wasn't wearing any Linkin' Park paraphernalia. Lane would have had to do some serious ass-whooping if the nerd had been wearing merchandise from that damn manufactured angst-pop band.

"Stupid MTV version of punk with their nonconforming conformist followers," the Mohawked Mary Sue was venting "who the hell do they think they are? And those damn 'hoodies'. I'll hood you. Converse shoes are for pussies that will never get laid."

Lane's new friend looked on questioningly. "What's that now?"

The bitch snapped out of her little rant, then focused all of her attention on the alleged nerd. "You're not an MTV punk are you? You don't think Good Charlotte and Avril Lavigne are hot stuff do you?" She waved her fist in front of her four-eyed friend's face.

"N-no!" he managed to stutter out. "He-heck no!" There was a sudden revelation-like look in his eyes and the nerd added, "And Linkin' Park sucks too!"

Lane smiled, showing off her crooked yellowed teeth. "I can see we are going to be good friends, unnamed stranger." She clapped him on the back several times. "Best of friends!"

"How delightful!" The other teen rambled off, "seeing as how I'm a loner and an outcast. I'm so much of a loser, nobody knew about me until I dated this one not-very-popular chubby girl." 

"That's pretty low, anonymous someone," the whoring Mary Sue nodded in agreement.

"And then the girl dumped me, making me even more of an outcast because she claimed I was abusive. But that's not true, she delusional I tell you. The girl had a history with the ol' drinky-drinky." The nerd pushed his glasses back up his nose with a finger and pantomimed someone drinking out of a bottle. "If you know what I mean..."

Lane nodded. She wasn't really listening, but she nodded anyway.

"So then I started to get all of these death threats from this one guy who can't make up his mind about having an afro or not. It's all whack yo, Dawg in da hizzie. We need ta' bang some shorties on da wall holla, holla G. Razzel frazzel hojamabob sfjmonk sfdsl lkjsdflier sl vlkdjfsd." 

The bitch nodded again. She still wasn't paying attention; rather, she was staring at what appeared to be a clump of broccoli stuck in the nerd's teeth. Lane didn't bother to point this out; she just kept smiling and nodding her head. "I hear dat, home-slice."

The nerd was caught up in the supposed attention he was receiving from the bitch in the beauty's body. He just kept rambling. Clearly, he didn't have a life. Hell, anyone who ate broccoli in the morning didn't have a life -or a sane mind. Lane wasn't sure if she wanted to be associated with a loser just yet in her Degrassi career. 

She was contemplating breaking off this one-sided conversation when a voice saved her from having to make any sort of decision.

"Hey, you! New girl!" About twenty people looked up from various conversations at the speaker, a portly girl with blonde hair. "Ahh... with the outlandish appearance." Twenty pairs of eyes remained focused on the girl. "Wearing the potato sack!" Four pairs of eyes remained. 

"Screw it!" the girl muttered and marched over to Lane and her new nerdy friend. She was a bit out of breath when she did finally reach them, but that didn't stop her from running headlong into a rant.

"You have to stay away from this creep, whose name is Rick." She glared at the guy sitting next to Lane. "Rick hits and pushes people. Rick's not fun. And Rick's a nerd. Me no like Rick." The chubby girl stopped right there, as if that explained everything.

The Mary Sue rolled her brown eyes. "You ain't gonna tell me what to do now, arez ya bitch? You don't know me. I ain't yer bitch. Who're you ta' get up in my face like dis nowz?" It was quite opposite actually; Lane had stormed over to the other girl and was barely inches away from the blonde's face.

"Let me start over again, then." The other girl inhaled deeply. "My name is Terri McGregor. I hang with the cool crowd. Do you want to spend the rest of you career with a loser like Rick?" She pointed at the nerd behind Lane, "Or do you want to be friends with me and the other cool kids?"

Suddenly, another blonde girl popped out of nowhere. "You just stole MY line Terri. That is so not cool! My bitches do not steal my lines. I am sooo not giving you that makeover now!" The girl snapped her fingers three times and then she was gone.

Lane rolled her eyes, a habit she seemed to be developing, and then turned on the girl named Terri. "I'd rather be friends with a nerd loser who spends his days playing Quake and fantasizing over those girls in FF X-2 then be the bitch of a bitch of a bitch like that, ya hear?"

The Mohawked Mary Sue did a quick about-face and headed over to the mentioned nerd, leaving Terri with a stunned expression. The nerd's mouth was wide open and his glasses were crooked.

"Shut yer trap," Lane said, then extended a hand to pull her companion up, another habit she was developing. She stared intently at the broccoli in his teeth for a bit more, and then shuddered. The Mohawked Mary Sue sighed. "You'll have to do for now, I guess."

The nerd squinted at her through his smudged and dirty glasses. "Who are you?"

Lane's left eye started to twitch. "Don't push me punk because I'm on that cliffy thingy, and I'm gonna' crack."

"What?"

"The bible o' Linkin' Park, Verse 13 Line 2, 'and the lord said, I'm on the cliff and I'm about to crack,' or something like that."

"Que?"

"Never mind. Linkin' Park smells anyway. Stupid pop-angst band." Lane waved a fist in the air, and then at Rick. "You don't like Linkin' Park, do you?"

"They smell."

Lane patted her new boy-toy on the back. "Good job."

He grinned. "You is better than my other master."

It was Lane's turn to squint, "Yeah, why was that bitch all up in your [cough]? I'm all for violence and shite, but what was all that about?"

Rick's smile disappeared and was replaced by a look of forlorn, "It's those darn preps. They hate me. I don't know why. Stupid preps."

Lane nodded. She could identify. Her brother, her very own flesh and blood, was prep. Luckily, he was in college so she didn't have to talk to his sorry ass. Speaking of preps... across the lawn their seemed to be some sort of convention going on. A group of school-spirited teens were gathered on the stairs that led up to the school. They were all staring at Lane and her new nerd friend.

The Mohawked Mary Sue raised a hand and pointed at the blonde girl who was located near the middle. She kept her finger pointed but continued her conversation, "Let's put on a little show for them, eh?" 

Lane slapped herself with her free hand but, again, continued to talk as if nothing weird was happening. "I mean, if they're going to watch, let's make it interesting."

"What are you thinking?" the brunette asked, regaining his foolish grin.

"Something from _Chicago__, _maybe. You know that one part where they sing...?"

The nerd has lost some of his enthusiasm, "The part where they sing? Yeah, I know it. And they dance there too, right?"

Lane rolled her shit-brown eyes. "Or we could just spoon, because in my experience most preps are prudes. So this would –what?" 

The other teen was looking at Lane with another odd expression on his face, like he couldn't quite believe his luck. "Let's spoon," he hissed, quickly leaning in towards the bitch.

Lane giggled, "Oh, you're a dirty little pervert." She glanced over at Terri and her gang, who were staring intently at the two of them. "How about this, I'll go tell those peeping-toms to #&%) $##*%# (#)*%@ @#)(&%# [edited for rating], and then we can spoon?"

The whore stood up before Rick could answer. She started to make her way towards the preps, but stopped herself. Lane turned back around and sighed, "In case I get in trouble or whatever, do you want to plan to meet up later, after school anyway?"

He glanced around Lane's slim figure at the preps. "Sure. Let's meet at the mall, and then we can decide what to do from there."

Because Lane was NEW and didn't know the entire freakin' layout of the town by memory, he gave her DIRECTIONS, which she quickly jotted down on her hand.

The Mohawked Mary Sue gave a tiny wave and a "See ya" then turned around for the second time. The preps were still lounging on the steps that led up to the school. The chubby blond was rigidly sitting on the edge of one of the stone steps. Another blonde girl, the one who seemed like competition, was sitting in the middle of a circle, the others surrounding her. It was like she was a queen on her throne.

"Another thing I'll have to change." Lane muttered. "This isn't going to be a skankocracy while I'm here." The girl stopped in her tracks and blinked. "OK, well maybe it might be, but not under that bitch. Skankocracy. That's pretty funny. I'll have to use that sometime."

With another determined huff, she continued towards the preps, who were generally ignoring her approach. When Lane was about fifteen feet away from the other teens, she stopped, took a deep breath, and started to rant...

~~~~  
  
I own naught of Degrassi. Lane is a character that came out of my twisted mind, not yours, so no stealing! And I apologize for poor grammar, spelling errors, or anything that doesn't quite make sense to you. Politely point it out to me and I'll change it.

Finally updated. I'm sure you've all been waiting on the edges of your respective seats... anyway, next chapter will be up sooner. A lot sooner.

A funny little side note: the part of Rick actually used to be Dean. [Paige's _alleged _rapist.]  That's how old this story is. But I figured that was so long ago, nobody would get it. It doesn't really ruin anything; I just thought I'd mention it. Enjoy! 


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